


You Raise Me Up

by journeycat



Category: Immortals - Tamora Pierce, PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wyldon shows a young Kally that there is no shame in her fear, and a friendship is born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Raise Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katty/gifts).



> Title taken from Secret Garden's titular song.

Wyldon found her weeping in the otherwise empty gallery, with her arms wrapped around her knees and her head buried in them. He wouldn't have noticed her, as he merely glanced in as he passed, but he was acutely attuned to the tears and tantrums of little girls and could pick out the keening of one from a mile away. And seeing little Kalasin curled up so small in a corner tugged something in his heart; it reminded him of his tender Sunarine who wept so easily.

So he ventured into the gallery, maneuvering around a large statute in the center, and crouched in front of Kalasin.

"Princess," he said softly, "what's gotten you so upset?"

She lifted her head, staring at him with large blue eyes—sapphire like the king's, but darker, deeper. Her black curls fell about her shoulders in a tumbled mess. _She will be beautiful one day_ , he realized. He thought of Eiralys, who was thirteen and pretty and growing up too much, too fast. _Jonathan, remember your daughter like this, before she leaves childhood behind._

"Lord Wyldon," Kalasin whispered, choked. "I—I didn't expect company."

She was clearly trying hard to cling to the manners a princess was taught, but her dignity was not much of an issue at this point. Her swollen, red eyes and tear-stained cheeks made her look as childish as the most common born chit.

"I can see that," he said. "Now, what's wrong? Are you still upset by the siege on Pirate's Swoop?"

That was only a couple weeks ago, and Kalasin was a gently-reared lady. He had no doubt that she was still deeply affected by the standoff with the Carthakis and the kraken's destruction. Had she been one of his...

But to his surprise, Kalasin shook her head. "No, my lord," she said with a quivering lip.

Wyldon stretched out his legs so that he could sit on the floor in front of her. She rested her sad face on her knees, not meeting his eyes. The tears continued to spill down her cheeks.

"Well then," he said, "what is it?"

"You'll think it's stupid."

He probably would, but he knew that the silliest things could mean the world to the most practical of girls.

"Sometimes it's worse to keep these things bottled up inside," he told her. "Look how sad it's made you."

She shrugged one shoulder, and then blurted out, "I _hate_ Zenoby!"

Another torrent of tears instantly came. She buried her face back in her arms again and began to sob, her thin shoulders shaking with every shuddering breath. Wyldon blinked, drawing a blank for a moment, before he remember Zenoby was the eldest daughter of Gareth the Younger. She was a good girl as far as he knew, but took after Her Grace. And taking after Roanna could either be a frightening or wonderful thing.

"Zenoby? Did you have a fight, then?"

Kalasin lifted her head with a wounded, angry expression. "She called me a baby," she said furiously. "She said that I was stupid for having nightmares about Pirate's Swoop. About the _kraken_. She said that if she had been there she never would've cried." She met his eyes defiantly. "So I told her I'd hit her if she called me a baby again. She says she'll hit me all the time, but when I say it, she goes and tells Mama! And Mama punished me and told me I should apologize for saying that! But it's not _fair_!"

She burst into fresh tears all over again. Wyldon sighed and took her hand, so delicate it disappeared in his grasp.

"Princess," he said gravely, "violence should never be taken lightly. If Lady Zenoby must throw such words around, then let her; you should not have resorted to that kind of behavior."

Kalasin made to tug her hand angrily away, but he held tight. "But let me tell you this: there is _no_ shame in your fear. You saw a terrible thing that day, and I have heard that you were as brave as any soldier. You are not stupid for having nightmares about it. Lady Zenoby was not there, so of course she can imagine her bravery. You _were_ there—you don't have to imagine it, because you will never forget it."

She watched him with her solemn eyes, with her child-eyes that had seen too much. She looked so fragile sitting there, craving his absolution, but there was steel inside her spine, far more than he would have thought.

"There will always be those who want to tear you down so that they may build themselves up," he continued. "Don't let them do it."

"Do you ever have nightmares?" Kalasin whispered. "Are you ever scared?"

"A man can only be brave when he's scared," he told her.

Wyldon still remembered the first time he ever killed a man, and vomited afterwards; he could still smell the blood. He remembered the battle at Jonathan's coronation, and how he fought against a living dead man. He remembered the constant fear that Roger would conquer and take all that he loved dear: his beloved wife, his precious daughters. And that fear never really did go away.

Oh, yes, he had nightmares.

"Now, dry those tears," he said in mock-sternness. "Someone is probably looking for you, and you want to look presentable, don't you?"

Kalasin dragged her hand across her cheeks, scrubbing away the tear tracks. Wyldon stood and waited for her to get herself in order. Like all women, she had to rearrange her hair, smooth her skirts, wrap herself in that unique feminine confidence. He reached out his hand again, and she took it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

"Come along, Princess," Wyldon said. "We'll go find your mother, and you can try to sort it out with her. You'll feel better afterward."

"Thank you, my lord," she said quietly. She looked up at him with those blue eyes, and smiled. "And you can call me _Kally_."


End file.
